Neighbors?
by LilaLL
Summary: One year after the Battle of Hogwarts, Lucius Malfoy suddenly arrives at Hermione's flat, things start to happen, and her life is flipped upside down...why is he there and is he still the scumbag that she knew? Can feelings develop between the two or are they fated to hate each other forever? A lumione fic, post-Hogwarts.
1. Chapter 1

A/N Hey everyone, just a couple of notes! It's my first fanfic yaay! Please forgive me for my foibles along the way, but constructive criticism is absolutely encouraged! Also please review and favorite so I know if this fic is worth pursuing. I won't be updating very quickly seeing as I'm still in school and that comes first, many apologies. Rated M for language and possible future smut ;)

In-story note: Fic starts a year after the battle, nothing has changed from the end of DH

Please enjoy ;)

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and/or characters belong to the fabulous J.K. Rowling, all I own is the plot.

1: A New Beginning?

It was small. Very small. For awhile she just looked at it, drinking the sight in; she'd seen pictures of course, but it was the first that she'd actually seen it in person. She was a bit disappointed, but it was like every other, she supposed. Hermione walked through the doorway of her new flat at 297 Welsh St. in London, the first place she'd live other than her parents home and Hogwarts of course.

It had only been a year since the battle, and although she was the CEO of the Promotion of Elvish Wellfare at the the Ministry and it was quite a good paying job, she should've known not to expect something lavish. It was acceptable though, and good for a single person living situation. That reminded her. Smiling bitterly, she recalled the recent breakup of her and Ron. Shaking her head, she tried to forget how much of a total arse he was; their whole relationship had been far from pleasant and not even close to respectful. Loads of hexes, lots of cursing, and the occasional slap. Again, she shook her head and lightly pinched herself. If she was going to get over him, it would be easier to do it sooner rather than later. She'd already spent too many nights missing his comforting arm around her at night. _Ok there Hermione, back to business_. Letting out a deep sigh, she refocused and looked around again. She'd been so excited, that she didn't even think of visiting the place before she took out a loan and bought it. Shaking her head and muttering sarcastically under her breath, "Well, congrats Hermione, this is a momentous moment. The first time you didn't think something entirely through."

Giving a big sigh and heading in with her bags floating behind her, she looked around some more and gave it some more thought. It wasn't half-bad; it wasn't like it was missing any rooms or anything. Yes, it would suffice.

After she'd sorted everything in their right places as best she could, and even though her and Harry were having lunch at the local coffeehouse in an hour, she flopped down on the couch that had been magicked into the room 5 minutes earlier to settle down and read for awhile. But suddenly there was a great commotion outside, sounding like someone had been stepped on by a hippogriff. But the shout that had echoed through her walls had sounded strangely familiar.

"Merlin….no good elf….damn woman didn't give me the number….how insolent…."

It sounded like an extremely distressed or at least very angry man. _Ugh really?_

She groaned internally. She'd just sat down; now of all times did she have to deal with someone that obviously had no respect for their neighbors or apparently elves. It was just a snippet, but from the tone of voice, she could safely assume that he wasn't too happy with the creature. But who's voice _was_ that? Getting up from her warm and comfy seat, she stalked over to the door, feeling her wand in her pocket just in case, and peered through the eye-hole but as soon as she put her face to it, all she saw was black for a moment.

"What the—" she wasn't expecting to see that as the black faded away, there was a pair of unusually large green eyes peering at her. She backed away from the door and tilted her head, thoroughly confused.

"Is persons in there or is there not?" A squeaky voice came from outside. _Ohhhhh_. She had enough experience with elves at the ministry to recognize the terrible grammar and tiny voice. It was the elf mentioned by the man before, but why exactly was it wanting to know if someone was there?

But before she could think more about it, there was a click—and the door swung open, revealing the aforementioned elf. Hermione looked down in surprise at the tiny little creature with those big green eyes, but right behind it were shoes. Nice ones at that.

Ah yes, the man who was so inconsiderate earlier. She'd almost forgotten about him. _Almost._ Her gaze travelled from the suede shoes, up to a black robe and dress pants, all the way up to a walking can the man was holding—with a sliver snake head, fangs and all, on it. There was only one man she had unfortunately crossed paths with in the past that owned that. _Good Merlin's underpants,_ why _in Godric's name is he here?_

Hermione almost choked on her own spit when she looked up at his face, with that iconic long blonde hair framing it. Standing before her was someone who she thought she'd never have to encounter again. Lucius Malfoy. Hermione simply stared for a long moment at the features on the man's face. And although they were contorted into a look that just screamed 'please let this just be a nightmare' mixed with strong distaste, she couldn't help admiring what she saw. Like marble, his entire face was carved into the perfect specimen of the type of people that would give looks of distaste to anyone wearing less than the best, but Merlin it was beautiful. As close to a Greek god as one could come, in her opinion. Of course this wasn't the first time that she'd noticed how handsome this stupidly evil and former Deatheater was— _hold up a quick second….snap out of it Hermione! What in Merlin's beard are you thinking?_ She kicked herself for being distracted. It was quite ridiculous that she should be thinking of his _face_ in this situation. The important thing was that Malfoy was standing outside of her flat. Her first reaction was to pull out her wand and begin to hex the absolute shit out of him, but on a more rational second thought, that would be positively stupid of her. Maybe he was just here to talk. She almost laughed out loud. Lucius _Malfoy_. Here to talk to _her._ This was a complete and utter joke.

But Malfoy looked as though he'd swallowed slugs accidentally, and looked as surprised to see her here as she was to see him.

After a minute, Hermione cleared her throat and tried to say in her most un-bothered voice, "Hello Mr. M-malfoy. What business do you have here, if I may ask?

Her voice stuttered on his name and she cursed inwardly. _He can probably smell fear_.

Even though he was no longer a Deatheater, and no longer in Azkaban (he'd gotten out on 'good behavior' which was absolutely ludicrous), he was still a man who wouldn't think twice about hexing you if you looked looked at him the wrong way, and although it had been a year since the battle, her scars had definitely not disappeared. They were still clearly there.

Meanwhile, the look of confusion had disappeared and was replaced with one of slight…was it embarrassment? She couldn't tell, but whatever it was, it didn't last long, and he regained his haughty composure and said, "What a pleasure, Miss….what was it? Oh yes…. _Granger_. That was quite a rude greeting you gave, wasn't it?"

He sneered, and then turned to the elf, his sneer turning into more of a deep frown. The house-elf was still looking up at Hermione with little more than a look that plainly said, 'do something like Potter and make him give me a sock'.

"Well, it's the wrong door obviously, so stop staring and get on to the next one," Lucius continued on through bared teeth and a grimace; he gave the elf a hard nudge with his foot.

 _What in the actual hell is going on here?_ Wrong door? Apparently he wasn't going to address what was going on because he turned to walk away. And what's with the no mention of the usual remark about her 'dirty blood'? If it was possible, the only sign of the man's hatred for her was the looks on his face. _Hmm, well he's still the dirtbag he was a year ago, but maybe Azkaban did him some good after all, even if his treatment of elves hadn't gotten an inkling better._

Curiosity got the better of her and she took a step outside into the hallway. "What exactly _are_ you doing Mr. _Malfoy_?"

It came out much more accusingly than she expected, and as she expected Malfoy turned and gave her a sneer, but his expression was again mixed with that look of embarrassment.

"I had thought by now that you'd of all people have learned not to meddle in other peoples business, that does obviously not concern you," he said through curtly through lips that barely moved. "Do not test me witch. I have other more important matters to contend with."

His insults, once long ago had an impact on her, but now it was just plain rude and annoying to no end. Slight rage bubbled to the surface of her head, and wasn't thinking straight when she said to him, dripping with sarcasm, "Wow, you know you're right Mr. Malfoy, this obviously _doesn't_ concern me, especially since you showed up at my door with a damn house elf to boot, and then proceed to go snoop around in other people's rooms in the place that _I'm_ living. Absolutely. It doesn't concern me at all," the snide witch replied, full of mocking.

Lucius tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. Taken aback, but quickly insulted at the sudden sarcasm that emanated from this frazzled looking girl, he slowly took a step closer to her and raised his staff almost as to strike her, but simply leaned close and got right in her face whispering, "It doesn't bother you that I'm here does it, girl?"

He reached out and put a single finger under her chin, lifting it up for her face to meet his.

"Hm? Is that why you're so curious?"

His tone and words were meant to obviously intimidate, but the look on his face said so much more. It wasn't a look of hate…no, it was something else entirely, and she wasn't sure she liked it.

From her point of view, Hermione could see every dark eyelash on his face, and his piercing slate grey eyes had specks of electric blue in them. Stopping momentarily to just think about what it would feel like to run her fingers through that godly hair of his, she subconsciously bit her lip. Malfoy, who (lucky for her) wasn't a legilimens, clearly mistook this action for fear, and took his hand away, a small smug look tugging at his lips. Apparently satisfied that he still got a reaction out of her (well, misinterpreted reaction), he turned and grabbed the house-elf with a gloved hand.

"Keep knocking, you insolent creature," and the elf squeaked and hurriedly obeyed, running from door to door, checking if anyone was in them. _Who or what in the good wizarding world is he looking for,_ Hermione thought frantically. Looking at the tiny elf, still scurrying around, almost at the last door of the hallway, she noticed that the man was right in what he had been shouting earlier; none of the doors had numbers on them. _Wait how the bloody hell had she even found her room if there were no numbers?_ Ah yes the lady at the front desk had told her that it was just the first door on the right on the second floor. _Well, he's definitely looking for someone,_ she concluded.

But at that very moment the poor house-elf said, "Sir, 'tis here lord! Your room issis here!"

Lucius' face immediately turned to stone as he slowly turned in horror at what his elf had just said. His head cocked to one side and he slowly stalked towards the elf who had clearly noticed his fumble. The elf's face blanched and he took a step backwards.

"Sir, Mr. Malfoy sir I hasn't mean to said that—I-I-I isn't good I is going to go now and clean the house and punish, oh no please no Mr. Malfoy sirs," the elf babbled clearly on the brink of tears, his big green eyes turning into saucers the size of dinner plates, but the man just continued, his face contorting into a look of even more hatred if that was possible. He pulled his wand from the head of the snake on his cane and as quick as lightning pointed it at the hopeless elf, but with a crack and a squeak the elf dissaparated to Merlin knows where. Lucius slowly lowered his wand and muttered something unheard, while Hermione, with the emotional range of actually more than a teaspoon, could almost feel the many waves of horror and embarrassment flowing off of the man. She only had a second for her brain to process this through, because her mouth opened and soon she was uttering the words, inlaid with a held-back giggle barely disguised as a cough, "Mr. Malfoy…. _you_ live _here?_ I'm sorry but I just simply can't see that," and her face morphed into a grin like Crookshanks'. This man, who wouldn't touch anything less than what cost 200 galleons, was living here? And how long had he been here? Not long for sure; surely someone would've noticed and word would be going around. And the more pressing question that was filling her head was _why?_

He turned and looked as though he were ready to kill, and it took him a few seconds, but eventually composed himself as he formed the words.

"Although it is none of your business, yes, I am taking up residence in this…" at this he waved his hand at the surroundings, "flat, I suppose it would be called. You will speak of this to not single soul," he said with daggers in his piercing grey eyes. "Do I make myself clear?"

Now for anyone else, this declaration of her obedience would make them at least cringe up with fear, but of course Hermione Granger, war hero extravaganza, was definitely not just anyone. She had seen Lucius do much more terrible things then just be an arrogant prick (like he was at the moment) so, calmly, she drew herself up to her full height which still didn't even reach the man's chin, and said in a clear voice, "I wouldn't think to do otherwise. And the reason that you're staying in this flat—"

"Is business that you're not so privileged to hear," cutting her off with his haughty reply.

"—no, actually if you'd listened I would've said that the papers will find out soon enough anyway, so it doesn't matter whether or not you fill me in on your current-situation," she continued to say, with a smirk on her face.

He looked surprised that she would actually dare to speak to him so but he seemed to accept it as her word not to tell anyone about this, as he turned on his heel, saying as he walked towards his room, "Do not misinterpret my lack of argument as pleasure in this situation, Miss Granger. If I had an option, I would certainly not be here right now." He disappeared into his room and the door closed behind him, but Hermione simply shook her head and headed back inside, wondering how long "temporary" meant to him, hoping in vain that it meant only a few weeks, but something told her that this would not be the case.

BEEP BEEP BEEP. Her watch's alarm went off.

 _Bloody hell._ She was late for her lunch with Harry.

She quickly magicked herself into a nice powder blue pencil skirt and a white blouse. Nice and simple, just as she liked it. She had to take a few minutes to freshen up and tame her unruly hair, but just as she opened the door to apparate to Madam CC's (their usual spot for tea), she was bombarded by a load of floating furniture and other miscellaneous items zooming down the hallway to none other than her new _neighbor's_ room. _Patience is a virtue, Hermione. Calm down woman,_ she told herself as more and more items came from up the staircase.

Just after a minute of this and she was about to shout down the hallway to make it stop, it did. She had noticed however, that not all of it was furniture, and a few things looked as though they should've been taken away by the ministry. Namely dark items, probably from Knockturn Alley. _Oh well. Not everyone can change immediately,_ she reasoned, and she stepped out, looking to see if there were any straggling lamps behind the others that might suddenly knock her from her feet, but none came.

She headed down the stairs but just as she got to the bottom step, she remembered. She left her purse in her room. Sweet Merlin what was happening to her? This was too unlike her to forget her purse—well, actually to forget anything at all.

Lost in her thoughts, she turned around and trudged all the way back up the stairs, looking down. She almost made it to the top—until she felt her forehead hit a wall—well, one made of silk and cloth. And muscle. Actually, a lot of muscle, but she didn't have time to think about that because the next second she felt herself lose her balance and fall backwards, but a strong arm grabbed her waist and she was brought back up to the stair. Her hands automatically reached for the cloth in front of her, which happened to be Lucius' suit. Her body was pressed against his and through his shirt and jacket she could clearly feel that he was tensed up.

Partly because of adrenaline and partly because of the situation, she took a deep breath and tried to calm herself, but he smelled of peppermint and chamomile, and she inhaled deeply. His arm around her was still clenched tightly to her waist, although it was no longer necessary, but she strangely didn't mind it. Her skirt was in his fingers and just thinking about the few inches that separated his hand and a place that would be very improper for him to touch made a shiver run down her spine. It was so wrong that she was thinking about all the things that he could do in that moment, but she couldn't help it. Every sense was aroused, but she drew herself back to reality and looked up at his face, still impassive as always. Actually, a look of passion, equal to that of a lover, passed over it, but it was gone just as soon as it came, and she doubted if it had actually happened.

"Umm….thanks," she said awkwardly. This was by far the strangest situation she'd ever been in, and she'd been in a lot of them.

"Yes, well," Malfoy smirked and removed his arm from her waist, "I didn't want to have to clean up the mess if you'd fallen," he drawled, back to his usual self, and he straightened out the front of his suit. He raised an eyebrow, at her.

"Miss Granger, I do believe that you're enjoying yourself a little too much in this situation here," he said, the side of his mouth twitching ever so slightly.

Hermione suddenly realized that she was still clutching his shirt.

"Oh Merlin, yes, sorry for that—I mean I'm not sorry for enjoying myself—wait, no I mean I _wasn't_ enjoying anything—I'm just….oh, never mind," she said, removing her hands and giving up trying to explain herself in vain. He simply shrugged.

"I mean I don't blame you…" And this time he didn't even try to hide his smug smirk.

"Oh do stop would you?" she said rolling her eyes. He sounded exactly like Draco did when they went to school together. _I suppose a stupid amount of vanity just runs in the family,_ she thought to herself. She moved past him and walked, with her face burning red, to her room, but she heard him call after her.

"You clean up well, Miss Granger, even as clumsy as you are. Just try to watch where you're walking, will you?"

Was that his twisted way of complimenting her? Well even if it was, she didn't care. Did she?

She felt a blush rising to her cheeks. _No, oh please no._ She certainly couldn't handle the smirk she would get from him if he noticed that his stupid words had actually affected her.

"Well, thank you and I will," she said skeptically, narrowing her eyes but said it politely all the same.

Accioing her purse to her, and turned towards the stairs again, moving quickly past him and brushing his side. But she turned when he said her name.

"Oh and Miss Granger….see you soon. Not that I particularly want to," he snidely remarked, his arms crossed across his trim torso. She simply shooed him away with her hand, turned, and smiled to herself, making sure that he couldn't see her face. It wouldn't do well if his ego was any bigger than it already was. Maybe this living situation wouldn't be as terrible as she first thought it would. _Goodness, this is ridiculous._ She gave a quiet laugh to herself, and headed down to apparate to lunch, but not before feeling eyes trace down the length of her body and back up again.

She turned ready to reprimand the man's staring, but before she could, her eyes found nothing at the top of the stares but empty space. _Damnable wizard._


	2. Chapter 2

A/N Hello my lovely fellow fanfictioners, this chapter gives us a bit of insight into _why_ our precious Lucius has moved so suddenly, pls enjoy!

Also I think that this timeframe between updates will be regular. It'll be about a week in between each, now that I've gotten the hang of things :)

Disclaimer: Everything that has to do with Harry Potter and/or characters belong to the fabulous J.K. Rowling, all I own is the plot

2: Objectives

"Hermione!" Harry exclaimed from his seat at the table outside the cafe. "Good, to see you, but what was the hold up?"

Hermione walked towards him with a frazzled look about her, her curly hair askew and a slightly glazed look in her eyes.

"Oh nothing of much importance really," she said with as much composure as she could at the moment.

After Hogwarts, both Harry and Ron had gotten jobs as aurors, while Hermione decided to pursue S.P.E.W. and create a new sub-department at the Ministry of Magic, the Promotion of Elvish Wellfare, which dealt with, not freeing elves, but passing laws and regulations about the treatment of them from their households and lords. Although there was still a great deal of work to be done for the subject, she thought that they'd done quite well so far, and it could only get better from here.

"So how's life treating you, 'Mione? Everything going well at the new place?"

At this, Hermione tensed and said in quite a squeaky voice, "Oh yes, things are wonderful. Nothing weird going one, just moving in and there's lots of boxes. Yes, lots of boxes," she ended lamely and sipped at her tea. She didn't quite know how to approach the subject of Malfoy becoming her neighbor, so she decided that it would be best to just skip over that part for the time being. _I mean, it's not_ that _important,_ she weakly thought to herself.

"How's the engagement so far? Got things planned?" She asked, attempting to change the subject. Just 5 months ago, Ginny and him had gotten engaged, but it wasn't a huge surprise. Everyone knew it would happen one day, but for some it was sooner than expected.

She recalled Mrs. Weaseley spluttering at the news of their nearing marriage. She wasn't exactly mad, it was just that Harry was 18 while Ginny was only 17, and she was continuing her last year at Hogwarts. She'd be done soon though, because it was already May, and graduation was in June. Also, she'd secured herself a place as seeker on the Hollyhead Harpies national Quidditch team.

"It's been….hard, but it'll be rewarding, I know it will," Harry sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, leaning back in his seat. "I just don't know if we rushed into it too quickly. Everything's kind of been a blur these past months."

Hermione nodded. She could absolutely relate to that; there were times that she forgot that Voldemort was already banished, and she woke up in a sweat, frantically reaching for her wand on her bedside table in the middle of the night. She was recommended a therapist once it got really bad, but she declined the offer. It usually just worked to take a dose of Dreamless Sleep and then she'd be fine.

There was a long moment of silence between them, but it wasn't at all awkward. They were like siblings, and had been for almost a decade now; the quietness was often comforting to both of them. It just meant that although they didn't have much to talk about, but they were there for each other, and that's what mattered.

The moment soon passed and the conversation got rolling: they talked about work, new friends, old friends, friends who weren't around anymore, and everything in between. They talked of Luna and Neville who had started dating only a short couple of weeks after the war, but Hermione was expecting it to happen much sooner than that. They were quite perfect for each other.

"So how are the Weasleys?" Hermione said tentatively. It would soon be Christmas and she spent it at the Burrow every year— _well, maybe not this year_.

"Um they're really good. Charlie's taken over the company in Romania and they've been talking about visiting him soon to celebrate." He paused and seemed to think for a moment.

"You know Hermione, it's not like you're banished from the house; Molly's been asking about you since…."

He stopped tentatively and looked up from his tea at her, but she gave a pointed stare at him.

"You know Harry, it's not like I'm going to implode every time someone mentions it," she said, exasperated. Everyone regarded her as though she were a ticking time bomb, whenever the subject of her and Ron's breakup came up, and it was quite maddening. It was like they thought she was going to break down and cry at any minute.

"Look, it's fine. I'm just not ready to be back with everyone at the moment," she said, cutting the momentary silence. Harry nodded and said no more about it.

"So tell me, how's work with the house elves?" He said, promptly changing the subject.

"Well, it's slow work, but we've successfully passed over 10 laws concerning their treatment, so it's definitely a start!"

She said, and her face lit up when talking about them. Harry chuckled.

"What? Can't I be excited about my work?" She said with a pouting look.

"Oh yes, yes, it's just the _level_ of excitement that exudes from you whenever you talk about anything related to getting stuff done. It's quite adorable," he said teasingly.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione sighed and shook her head, but smiled all the same.

When it came time for them to return to their responsibilities, Harry gave her a kiss on the cheek, paid the check, and apparated back to the Ministry, but not before exasperatedly heaving a great sigh. Apparently being an auror, he and Ron didn't have weekends off.

It was a bright Sunday and Hermione was thankful that her job didn't require her to be at work seven days a week.

She took the last sip of tea and got up from her comfy seat. It had been good to return to normal life, if just for an hour, but she still had a certain blonde haired snake to take care of at her place, and find out why he suddenly had the great urge to move into a tiny apartment. Just as she was getting up to do just that, the post came in, and an owl swooped into the cafe, landing on the counter in front of the owner.

He took up the paper, _Witch Weekly_ , and apparently decided it wasn't worth his time, promptly put it down again, but it slipped down and fell onto the floor. From where she was standing, Hermione could just make out the picture on the front page, and it was of someone _very_ familiar. Her eyes widening, she quickly walked over to the paper on the ground and picked it up. Putting a hand up to her mouth, she silently gasped and stifled a small laugh. So _that's_ why he had moved into the apartment.

 _ **Witch Weekly**_

 **The Next Most Eligible Bachelor? Narcissa splits from husband Lucius Malfoy!**

The recently made single Malfoy lord has reportedly been left by wife Narcissa and is currently residing

in an unknown location. The former Death Eater refused to comment on the situation only to say that

his move is temporary and he plans to move back to Malfoy Manor as soon as possible….(continued on pg. 4-5)

Hermione opened and closed her mouth several times before she realized she was still in public. Quickly sitting down again, she ran a hand through her hair. This was a most peculiar situation….in the wizarding world, there is no 'divorce' per say, but Narcissa split from Lucius? _But why?_ She thought, pondering their love life. Combined, her and Lucius had money, fame, influence…. _and she's ridiculously hot_. A twinge of jealousy went through her. What man in his right mind would let their marriage to a woman like _that_ go to hell?

Narcissa was like a Norwegian goddess, with long flowing blonde hair and piercing blue eyes that could _actually_ turn see into your soul. Besides, they were just aesthetically perfect for each other. _I mean, the man's practically a god himself._

The war had it's toll on him, but a little bit of the rugged look suited him. And of course that's not to say he wasn't still ever the aristocrat, because Godric knows he was the aristocrat of _all_ aristocrats.

Hermione couldn't believe that the press had actually published this article. One would think that they'd still be afraid that he'd come and kill them if they did, but apparently not. Although he was a complete and utter prick, Hermione still felt for the man.

She wondered what had happened, but on second thought, why did she even care? This was his personal business, she shouldn't get into it.

 _That's right Hermione, keep your nose out of his business_ she thought icily. Her innate curiosity had served her well in her schooling years, but she certainly didn't want to become _that_ next door neighbor. There was still a part of her that _was_ very curious as to why the power couple had suddenly broken apart after so many years, but she supposed that even the richest of people still had marriage problems. And it was also just plain weird to think of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy (or she assumed now Black) as actual _people_ with actual _personal lives_ and actual _problems_ just as the rest of the world had. They were quite untouchable one could say. Or maybe not, based of this recent tidbit of information. As she gathered her purse and set down the gossip magazine, she stood up and made to apparate back to her flat.

 _No wonder he looks so haggard_ she thought, but with no venom or malice to go along with her thoughts. In fact, she felt slightly for the man. She could only imagine what he must be going through.

She arrived outside of the apartment building on the sidewalk and marched right in, eager to find out more about the situation.

 _But no…._ she slowed her walking. She wound her hands together and furrowed her brow.

 _What am I doing? The man is probably already broken up as it is,_ she reprimanded herself, _and here I am, wanting to question him about it. Godric, you selfish woman!_

"Miss Granger, just the person I was looking for," came a voice from behind the key counter.

"Hm?" Hermione said, looking up from her intertwined hands. She saw the woman who had given her the apartment keys this morning smiling at her.

"Oh I was simply wondering if you were close enough to our new tenant Mr. Malfoy to give him these," she held up a pair of green robes that she assumed had been forgotten in the moving process.

"Of course, not a problem. Not a problem at all," Hermione replied with a little more enthusiasm than necessary. _It just gives me an excuse to poke him about the new situation, nothing more than that._ Reprimanding herself and keeping her thoughts in check, she ascended the stairs to her room level. As she was approaching, she heard the shutting of a door and the clicking of a lock. She turned the corner and there he was in all his glory. Dressed just as impeccably as always, in green robes, Lucius was outside his door and looking as though he were going out.

Hermione quickened her pace to catch up to him before he left.

"Mister Malfoy, I have something for you it was left…"

Hermione started but then stopped just as quickly when she saw his face as he turned.

 _Merlin's beard he looks….terrible._

Of course not terrible in the sense of ugly, but the look on his face was thoroughly disheartening.

 _Yep, it's the end of the world. Pigs can probably fly, and the most imposing and possibly fear inspiring man I have ever met, looks_ sad. _Truly, undeniably, sad._

Hermione never thought she'd see this day, but here it was. It was quite heart-wrenching to see the face of someone who was previously one of the most successful men she'd ever met, look completely exhausted, assumingely over his failed marriage.

His expression was gone in second when he realized that a body belonged to the voice, and he was once again composed and calculated, but the deed was done, and Hermione had seen it in action.

"Mister Malfoy…"

She started again, much more quietly, but it held pity in that simple phrase.

"Don't you have somewhere to be, Miss Granger? Possibly a bookstore per chance?" He asked, defensive malice lining his words. And that was what did it. As soon as he said it, Hermione's look of pity revised itself into one of hurt and annoyance. _Even if his wife_ did _leave him, he's still a bastard._

"Actually _Mister_ Malfoy," she started indignantly, "I had come up to give these to you," she said as she tossed the robes at him. At a few feet away, it was quite the amusing sight to see the man fumble and put his clothes over an arm, but it didn't dissuade Hermione from being utterly vexed with the man who should be grateful, but instead was pissy towards her. _And to think, it's not even 12 o'clock yet. How could someone be so bloody cross before noon?_ She let out an exasperated sigh and let her head hang down and closed her eyes for just a second. She reorganized her thoughts and composed herself before raising her head again.

"Mr. Malfoy," she started once again, and hopefully the last time, "it has come to my attention that you are here," at this she motioned to the surrounding flat, "because of the unfortunate case of your….divorce."

She had to be careful about this, and make sure not to tread on any toes, not wanting an angry Malfoy a few feet from her.

"How very acute of you Miss Granger….so you _are_ able to read. Yes, the papers did get some right information for once."

Lucius replied mockingly and with faux appraisal, clapping his hands. Slowly. Very slowly.

Bristling, Hermione's curly hair crackled with magic just waiting to be released into a hex onto the wizard, but she kept her cool, and didn't rise to the bait. _In fact, maybe that should be my new tactic while having to deal with this rude behavior. What was that saying? Oh yes, 'ignorance is bliss.' Perhaps I should take that to heart and simply practice ignoring his comments._

"So, you're saying that your appearance at my door this morning, and you choosing to live here, has _nothing_ to do with me?" Hermione asked hopefully and pretended to not hear his jab at her. She saw a look of clear confusion come over the man's face.

"You are correct in your assumption. Why would my living situation have anything to do with _you_?" He replied, though not accusingly.

It was a relief to Hermione that he didn't have a master plan brewing; maybe one to wreak havoc on her almost peaceful life, but a small, embarrassed part of Hermione secretly admitted to herself that a teeny tiny bit of hope was strewn into the notion that he did indeed move here because of her. _Ugh how illogical and childish, Hermione_ , she chided herself. _That wouldn't even make sense,_ but she felt hotness creeping up her neck for the second time today.

"No reason, really. Just wondering," she said, far too quickly and looked down to her hands. She twiddled her fingers together as she felt Lucius staring her down with one of _those_ stares, his eyes traveling from the freckles on her nose down to her neck, to her cleavage, barely concealed by the low-cut of her neckline. She swore she could actually _feel_ him smirk.

"So that redness that is so alluringly adorning your bosom has nothing to do with our conversation at the moment, hm?"

Stating this quite bluntly, Lucius raised his eyes to her level and raised a manicured eyebrow.

"I—just what—no! It doesn't, you're very mistaken if you think that any part of you _or_ this conversation would make me blush!" She said, trying but failing to not splutter out the words. She raised her hands to her chest though and tried to cool them down.

"Besides, it's my face and neck anyway, not anywhere else," she said, squinting her eyes at him.

"Oh I really have to be contrary and point out that at least where I'm standing, it does down _much_ farther than that, my dear," he said, with an extremely lascivious look in his eyes the whole time. Hermione opened her mouth and closed it several times before she could get a word out, and even then it was only a few.

"I'm going now," was all she could say as she started to turn and walk back towards her own flat. This was completely unforeseen. And frankly quite odd. Hermione had come to give Malfoy his robes (and analyze him and his situation) but she left feeling as though _she_ was the one having been analyzed. _Damn. Well at least I've got the reason he's staying here._ But pausing in her thought process, she rethought the conversation over. _Or have I? I know what happened, or at least some of it, but why isn't he still at Malfoy Manor?_

Cursing him for distracting her from her focus, she whipped around and took no time to address the issue at hand.

"Why aren't you at your manor? Why are you here instead of the there? After all, _you_ weren't the one who left," she said, not thinking, and a moment later regretted it. Lucius' expression had again contorted into one of disgust and distaste.

"I will tell you, but only so that you don't go away uncultured and oblivious to refinement, something that you might have want to use in the future," he said, words detailed with boredom, as though she were nothing but a buzzing fly, wasting his oh so precious time. "Although you may think me vile and corrupt as I can assure you, many do, I am decent enough to let a woman take her time in moving _her_ items out of _my_ house."

"Oh," was all that Hermione could say about the matter. To be honest, she'd thought that there would be a reason a bit more interesting than that to give her. Something dramatic, or at least more dramatic than _moving_.

"Yes, I know, not a reason quite plump enough to sink your teeth into, is it?" He said with smug smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

"Oh that was what I was just—wait, no, stop how dare you read my thoughts!" Hermione practically squeaked out at him.

"Now, now, don't go acting out like a child, Miss Granger. It's quite unbecoming of you," he chided her. "And just so you do know, I wasn't using occlumency: I didn't need to. Your face says absolutely everything you're thinking, Miss Granger. _Everything,_ " he said, not menacingly, but with just enough amusement to make her wonder what else her expressions had told him.

"Hm well I very much need to—er—finish some….tasks, so if you'd excuse me, I'll just be on my way," just like that, she scuttled backwards to her door and disappeared behind it, without as much as a goodbye or a 'see you later'.

At this she snickered with distaste. _That would be the day. When Lucius Malfoy says 'See you later!' to a mudblood._

She leaned against the closed door and slowly slithered herself down to the ground, too lazy to walk to the couch. Accioing herself some crackers and cheese, she simply sat and contemplated this strange interaction between herself and the man who had once not raised a hand to help her when she was cruelly tortured. In his house. By his sister-in-law.

And she also had a feeling that it definitely wouldn't be the last conversation that they would have. Oh yes, there would be many more to come.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Oooff… things are starting to happen in this next chapter, all though not as quickly as some of you might want, but it's ok we'll get to that in time ;) ALSO guess what favorite potions professor I've decided to allow to live out his glory? (ok ill stop now but seriously i love him and there will be more of him to come in future chapters yaaaay)

Again, please leave reviews with as much criticism as you'd like (I need it), and follow and favorite if you like the story!

Obviously, this is a super late update, please forgive me as I haven't got the hang of this whole writing thing yet.

Disclaimer: Everything to do with Harry Potter and/or characters belongs to the fabulous J.K Rowling, all I own is the plot.

3: Questionable Circumstances

It was Monday. Probably the least-liked day of the week. _And_ Hermione was woken up with the most unpleasant noises.

She rolled onto her side and faced the wall, just slightly opening her eyes as to not let the light in too much, but her plans of staying in bed just a little bit more were disrupted by groans and voices coming from her neighbors' flat. _Actually it sounds like Malfoy's flat, based off of the side of the room it's coming from._ There were more moans and little squeal followed by giggling. _A woman? Oh god. Oh no, please no._

Already guessing what could be happening in the other room, she attempted to stifle the noise with a pillow to her ears, but to no avail. _A little morning shag, huh, Malfoy? Godric, I really didn't need to know that's happening…_

The noises simply just got louder and Hermione was forced to get up and throw on a robe before quickly quieting their noises with a spell. They were still audible but definitely not as bad as when she'd woken up. She exhaled and started her morning process to get ready for work at the ministry, but she found herself wondering who this lady could be.

 _Surely not Narcissa right? No, she left him…it wouldn't make sense. Maybe just a random girl he picked up. A rebound?_ That sounded right, and certainly something that he would do. _I mean any girl looking for a bit of fun would probably love to get in his bed._

Sure, he was a git, and an evil one to boot, but there was undeniable attractiveness in his features, even if he was a bit older. _A good 20 years to be exact, but did age really matter? Of course Hermione. Yes, age matters, Godric, what made you even think about that in the first place?_

She finished brushing her teeth and rinsed her mouth with the freezing water from the tap. As she swished it around, she thought some more about it, but then she shook her head and almost spat the water all over the mirror trying not to laugh. Why was she even thinking about his choice in women? Or even him at all? _This is ridiculous Hermione. You need to stop it this instant._

Putting on one of her nice sets of periwinkle robes, she strode out with wand and bag in hand, after she had finished her little rant in her head about Malfoy not even bothering to put a muffliato around his room before proceeding to have a little tumble about with a new catch.

 _Really, how daft of him. Does he even know he's a wizard and can do that sort of thing?_ Rolling her eyes, she tried not to think about it any more. It would just make her even more ruffled, and that just wouldn't do to go to work in the morning like that. She thought about leaving a very passive aggressive sticky note on his door saying something along the lines of, ' _Mr. Malfoy, in the future, please keep you're shagging noises to yourself. No one really needs to know that you like it rough,'_ but she decided that would be a bit crude and immature, so she went against it.

She arrived in her office with three minutes to spare and a lot on her mind. _Ok, first things first, time to get that new intern situated._

It was summer, and there was a recently graduated seventh year from Hogwarts working his first job at the ministry and planning to become 'as good at helping elves live their best lives, as Hermione Granger is at being awesome,' according to the young man. She was thoroughly pleased by his exuberance in following in her footsteps, but he could be a bit much when it came to his 'helping'.

Just last week, she had asked him to print out some copies of the recently passed laws regarding house elves, to review them, and to also write up a few rough ideas for laws that could add on to those other laws. He came to her office the following day—with _37_ new ideas. She had asked for _a few._ Not that this was bad, in fact, he reminded her a bit of herself when she was at school, and she now understood what she had put Professor McGonagall through for six years, but she had to assign all these new ideas to be looked at by several other people and a little more work had been put on their plate because of this.

Hermione was sure that he'd find his way around in no time at all, but for the moment, it was quite overwhelm ing as one might imagine.

Just as she was thinking of the intern, there was a knock on her door, and in came the tall boy with robes that were much too short for him. With a mane of brown hair and keen moss green eyes, disheveled robes and a badly done tie, he looked every part the young new intern as was physically possible.

"Miss Granger, hi—I mean good morning!"

"Mr. Bellinger, good morning to you too. What brings you here at such an early hour?" Hermione replied with as much professionalism as she could at the moment, stifling at laugh because of the boy's obvious nervousness.

Nearly shaking at the knees (either with fear or excitement she couldn't tell), he began to inform her of all his doings of the weekend, and how they pertained to his work on researching the statistics of the level of treatment of house elves in Wizarding England.

 _How cute. He's so nervous to be working here, even as a level one intern with no pay._ She held another laugh in, though it was a good natured one.

She had to admit, it _was_ quite strange being referred to as 'Miss Granger' by a boy not three years younger than her, but then again, she wasn't complaining. It was actually nice to get the respect she felt she deserved, being one of the youngest women in the ministry to hold such reputable stature as a boss.

As Bellinger finished, she gave him some praise (at this he looked absolutely thrilled), but told him that it really wasn't necessary to work so hard on the weekends (he had completed the next weeks assignments in full).

"Speaking from previous experience, it's not worth your time or happiness to spend every hour of the day pouring over books and records, when you could be spending time doing other things, like conversing with friends and—er— _partying_ and such, isn't that what people your age do nowadays?"

The boys face couldn't have looked more confused and at the same time pleased if he'd tried.

Hermione noticed just then that she sounded old. Like _really_ old.

 _Merlin's beard, no wonder why he's confused. I'm not even out of my twenties and I'm speaking like_ this _? I could very well just be saying 'when I was a youngin' back in the old days' or some crazy thing like that. Speaking of which, what_ do _people my age do nowadays?_

Jumping out of her slightly concerning thoughts, she glanced up at the intern who was looking absolutely terrified and expectant as though he'd asked her something and was waiting for a response.

"Er, sorry Mr. Bellinger, what were you saying?"

"Oh…um…I was just asking what you were—er—doing this weekend if you're not busy?"

He laced his hands together and started focusing intently on something on his shoe. _What…is happening? Oh dear…is he asking me out? Please tell me he's not asking me out. Godric this is going to be awkward._

Hermione was extremely taken aback, considering this was the last thing that she expected him to do. _Why? Why would he ask me out? I mean—oh, I don't even know._

"Mr. Bellinger, I'm extremely flattered, but you do realize that I'm—er —your _boss_ , and work relationships really aren't appropriate, I must inform you, if you didn't know already. Never mind that I'm a few years older than you," she added hesitantly.

Bellinger suddenly became very pale, and seemed to just die on the inside.

"Of—of course, Miss Granger, sorry—I—I mean I don't know what I was thinking, so if you'll just excuse me I'll be in my—er—office…doing stuff," he finished lamely and very quickly. He scuttled out of her office with his tail between his legs.

 _Oh poor boy, he sounds like he just got rejected from his idol. Ha, I wonder if I_ am _his idol, wouldn't that be funny._

All laughs aside though, Hermione really did feel for the boy, but she knew it just wasn't a good idea, or realistic for that matter.

 _Oh well. He'd do much better with another newbie intern like him._

She continued her work, shuffling through papers, law drafts and the like, and when her stomach grumbled loudly after a few hours, she looked up at the clock.

 _1 o'clock. Perfect, just in time for lunch._

She set her pen aside and headed out the door, hoping to get a good table at the ministry workers' restaurant inside the building and maybe sit with a few coworkers.

As she approached the elf taking orders at the green counter, she paid for her regular, and took a table by the charmed window, showing the facade of the rainy London streets.

Looking out of the window, she thought of the boy who had just asked her out a few hours ago. He wasn't bad looking for sure, but he didn't quite have the maturity level that she would need in a… _partner? Date? Boyfriend?_ _None of these labels sound good._ She needed someone more… _authoritative._

 _Yes, I like that word._

Not too strong like the word 'dominant', but just strong enough to match herself, in fact. _But where would one find someone like that, someone that isn't a complete arse...actually, Lucius Malfoy is the perfect example—except for the fact that he_ is _an arse._

If she could simply just fix his atrocious personality, he'd be almost perfect. _At least physically,_ she thought with a sly smirk, not unlike Malfoy's.

 _He probably has quite a good set of muscles underneath those expensive robes, simply judging from his neck._

She stifled a laugh. Of all the physical traits to observe, she was thinking about his _neck._ It was laughable. _But he_ does _have a very nice neck. Broad and toned, but not too thick, with distinct veins across the sides._ Oh and then there was his hair. _Oh_ , his hair. It wasn't the first time she'd thought about running her fingers through that luscious glowing hair of his, just long enough to frame his gorgeous face, with features that could rival marble statues, formed by an artist's hand. To trace the bridge of his nose, right down to his finely pressed lips that came together to form that terribly sensual smirk that was consistently present. Oh, that smirk would be enough to make a woman falter under his gaze and think such atrocious thoughts about a man, thoughts that could turn any woman's lingerie into nothing but a dripping undergarment, ready to be stripped off and tossed onto the floor.

When she was only in her fourth year, the one of the first times that Hermione had met Lucius was at the Quidditch World Cup, and even then, when crushes and fancies were just starting to develop at her tender age, she had found him to be undeniably pleasing to the eye, and she sort of…had a hard time looking away.

She had taken just a few bites of her Shepard's pie, lost in thought about what her hands could do to that body of his, when there was a scraping of a metal chair, and someone pulled up a seat across from her. She pulled her gaze away from the raindrops racing down the window, and faced the blonde haired man.

"Malfoy!"

She almost jumped out of her seat when she realized it was the _other_ Malfoy who had come to join her, but regained her composure and smiled, pleasantly surprised at her new table-mate.

 _God, and I was just thinking about his_ father. That thought gave her a slightly queasy feeling in her stomach, but she relaxed when Draco smiled back, his pearly white teeth showing.

"Granger, good to see you too," he said with an amused chuckle. "Does my presence make you _that_ nervous?"

He smirked, but it was good-natured.

Since Draco's trial, when Hermione had spoken for his actions (she still didn't quite understand why she had done it), they had become closer, almost close enough to call friends. They were co-workers, and that fact alone persuaded them to be at least mature around each other. As Hermione had pointed out, if they were to succeed, they'd have to _not_ throw half-assed insults at each other every day.

So that was the start of something that had grown into something of a cordial relationship.

"No, no, you just startled me," Hermione replied, actually thankful for someone to pull her out of her thoughts of… _him._

"So what has the insufferable know-it-all been up to lately?" Draco said with good humor, settling himself down and taking a sip of his butterbeer.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Not much, unless you think rejecting a poor intern asking about a date is anything worthwhile," she said, the corners of her mouth turned up.

"Ah so another one of _those_ , hm?" He rolled his eyes. "These boys, _honestly_. Thinking they can get Granger, the famed war hero to bed; they're ridiculous."

"Well at least _someone_ wants me…" she said, but only half seriously.

"Oh just shut up Granger, don't pity yourself," Draco said not seeing her jest. "Any man would be bloody lucky to have you between his sheets—and I don't just say that to anyone," he added as his face turned from the usual pale white to the tone of a tomato.

"Really—I just…er—thank you," Hermione said— _very_ embarrassed at this former prick actually giving a compliment to none other than _her._

"Yes, yes, don't get used to it Granger, you're still on my hate list," Malfoy replied, eyes narrowed, but it was with less venom than the usual jibe and as he sipped his foamy butterbeer, the corner of his lips turned upward.

Hermione arrived back at her flat at 4:00pm sharp, ready to just about have someone levitate her up the stairs she was so tired. But alas, there was only one other wizard in her building, and she wasn't about to trust Malfoy to not throw her down the stairs if she even proposed the idea to him. Sighing, she made her way up to the third floor and into her room where she promptly flopped down on the sofa that was oh so soft on her aching feet, but there was a crack of apparition and the sound of footsteps in the hallway—they stopped directly in front of her room.

"Harry? Ginny?" Hermione called, not opening her closed eyes.

"Er—no, not exactly," a familiar voice sounded outside.

"Malfoy? Why are you here disturbing the peace?" Hermione asked exasperatedly, recognizing the patronizing drawl anywhere. "I just saw you a at lunch—go away unless you have food and plan to give it up to me. Then maybe you may come in. And how do you have my address anyway?"

"I just looked it up on the ministry records, what do you think you dunderhead?" The Malfoy heir called back from outside. _Oh dear…someone has been spending too much time with a certain potions professor. Hmmm….I wonder why…._

She smirked a little too much.

"Look, I have a couple of papers you left at the table. I'm not your personal food delivery service, and I don't have any food with me at the moment anyway," he said, audibly sighing and she could just imagine him impatiently tapping his foot.

"Okay, okay, I'm coming."

Hermione rolled off of the couch groaning as she stretched her arms in front of her. Opening the door, what did she see but that shiny shoe tapping impatiently against the carpeted floor. Thrusting the papers at her, Malfoy rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Well?" He said with a barely audible grunt.

"Thank you?" Hermione tried. "Is that what you want to hear?"

"Well…yes," Malfoy pouted, lowering his head sheepishly and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Godric, I was going to say it anyway. No need to tell me," Hermione replied shaking her head but giving a small laugh.

"I should go. See you tomorrow—at work, I mean," he said, turning to go. But the opening of a door from the other door stopped him in his tracks.

"Father? _This_ is where you've situated yourself while mother moves out?"

Astonished and open-mouthed, Draco stared, unabashed, at his father.

"You _do_ know this is a muggle building, don't you?" He said, once again regaining his composure and snobbish persona.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Wizards can live in muggle buildings if they want to, Malfoy, there's no rule against it," she said, feeling slighted. Yes, she _chose_ to live in a muggle neighborhood, but it was only to get away from… _everything_ for a while and it had proved to be nice and quiet most of the time, which she appreciated.

"First of all witch, I didn't _want_ to live here, it was simply convenient. And I don't need to explain my actions Draco,"Lucius snapped, obviously displeased with both of them.

 _Wow okay then…_ obviously _they have issues._ Hermione knew that the Malfoy relationships between one another were strained (for obvious reasons, maybe like most of them were Deatheaters), but she could sense that there was a deeper discomfort brewing between them. _Stop. You're being nosy again._ She scolded herself strictly. _It's just like I'm back in school, investigating problems that should be dealt with by someone else—not me._ She cursed her curiosity again, but as Malfoy headed down the stairs leaving his son more confused than he started, she couldn't help but follow.


End file.
